


Eye of a Hurricane

by AuKestrel



Category: due South
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-02
Updated: 2000-01-02
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8265605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuKestrel/pseuds/AuKestrel
Summary: Ray forces Fraser to ponder the end of the world.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published 2 January 2000 | [AuKestrel](mailto:aukestrel@gmail.com)
> 
> Soundtrack: what ELSE? It's The End Of The World As We Know It, from Document, REM
> 
> Standard disclaimers: they're Alliance's and Paul Haggis' AND Paul Gross' as well; if they were mine I'd set them free to compete in the marketplace where they could take on anyone with both hands tied behind their respective backs.
> 
> It was pointed out to me by the always astute Kellie that this ought be labelled, properly, an AU of sorts. It can either take place at any unspecified new year or in 1999; if it's the latter, then it's AU because obviously CotW never happened.
> 
> F/K, M/M, R for language, mature themes

_Eye of a hurricane listen to yourself churn..._  
   It's the End of the World as We Know It, REM

 

“If the world were gonna end, Fraser, what would you do?”

The man lying beside him lifts his head from the pillow and blinks sleepily, bemused. “In terms of what, Ray?”

“If this new year, if, like, they’re right and it was the end of the world -”

“They’re not. The clocks switched over with barely a flicker.”

“I know that. I’m just saying, what if? What if you knew the world was gonna end? What would you do?”

“Ah. Well. I suppose that depends on how much time I have and, perhaps, how the world was going to end. What brings this rather depressing topic to mind..." - he yawns, cracking his jaw - “less than six hours before I have to be up?”

“Just... stuff... I’m kinda... wired.” He moves his hand to the other man’s forearm and began rubbing his thumb along the inside of the elbow, too firmly to tickle.

“Dear God, I wish I had your metabolism, Ray.”

“You kinda make up for it in stamina, Frase. So what would you do?”

“What would you do?”

“I’d fuck you senseless.”

“Ah. Somehow I had a feeling -”

“I’m just kidding. I don’t know. I've been laying here thinking about it. I don’t know. If I knew it was gonna end tomorrow I’d probably fuck you senseless on the Sears Tower. If I knew it was gonna end next week I’d fuck you senseless on Mt. McKinley. If I had a month -”

“I sense an overarching theme.”

“I got a kind of one track mind.”

“Mmmm. And may I say that it’s an excellent track to be on?”

“You may.” He rolls over, half on the other man, half off, letting his head fall naturally into the space between Fraser’s jaw and shoulder. “So what would you do?”

“In which scenario? Not that it matters. I think in general terms I’d be, ah - “

“Fucked -”

“Thank you, yes, senseless. So it’s a moot question, isn’t it?”

“Would you say ‘fucked’ if it was the end of the world?”

“Quite probably.”

“Say it now.”

“In your dreams, Ray Kowalski.”

“Yeah. You can say that again.”

The dark head moves, the lips finding a small ear, the tongue darting out to taste it. “Fucked.” It’s almost a sigh, not quite a breath, hardly loud enough to hear, and Ray smiles contentedly.

“Okay, now the world can end.”

“I’d just as soon it didn’t. How have you managed to wrap me around your not inconsiderable and quite talented little finger?”

“Charm, good looks, and not inconsiderable charisma.”

“You’re insufferably smug.”

“I got you in my bed, in my life, what’s not to be smug about? So come on. Subject changing Mountie. Oh, God, I like that tongue.”

“Mmm. I like the ear.”

“Nice sympathetic relationship.”

“Symb -”

“Whatever. Okay, say the world’s going to end tomorrow on the stroke of midnight. Say there was... some kind of nuclear meltdown or something. And the world’s just going to explode. What would you do?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Um, eighteen hours.”

“I would take you and Diefenbaker to Canada to my father’s cabin.”

“And I would go, so, okay, that works. Could we drive it in eighteen hours?”

“Of course. With the occasional stop for requisite public sex.”

“There you go. Okay, say we got a week.”

“Wait, what would you do?”

“I already told you. I’d fuck you senseless on the Sears Tower, tell my mom and dad goodbye, and head north with you and Dief.”

“Ah.”

“Okay, so say we got a week. Then what?”

“Hmm.”

“You do that to bug me.”

“I’m thinking.”

“You think more than anyone I’ve ever met. I’d find Stella, kiss the hell outta her, maybe even fuck her - no, jeez, I’m just kidding, Frase - tell Dewey he gets on my last nerve, tell Welsh he’s the coollest boss I ever had, tell my mom and dad goodbye, and head to Alaska with you.”

“Canada.”

“Whatever.”

“You’ve evidently given this some thought. Most men tend to, ah, sleep after downright fabulous sex.”

“Oh, God, Fraser, you pay the sneakiest compliments.”

“A week, eh?”

“Yeah. Little more time for loose ends, not a lot.”

“I think...” He hesitates, and Ray lifts his head to look at him, a small frown appearing.

“It’s okay, Frase, say it.”

“I think I would kiss Inspector Thatcher once more, tell Turnbull that I’ve always enjoyed his overt yet subtle sense of humour, and... find Ray Vecchio.”

“What for?”

“To, ah, fuck him senseless?”

“You are soooo funny. Not.”

Still he hesitates. “To... to tell him things that we never said. That I, for one, never would say otherwise.”

“Like what?”

“Like... thank you and...”

Ray feels the big chest beneath him rise and fall, the indrawn breath catching and skipping a heartbeat.

“And screw you for leaving?”

Fraser chokes on a laugh. “Essentially. Yes. Thank you. And then I would go with you to Alaska.”

“Canada. And more fucking.”

“An integral part.”

Ray hugs him, rather more tightly than he has done in the past, and they both ponder the silence for a few moments.

“How about -”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to leave it.”

“You know me better than anyone, Fraser.”

“Yeah, I suppose I do.” He sounds thoughtful.

“Okay, say the world’s going to end next month because, um, the moon’s going to, I don’t know, collide with an asteroid or something.”

“A month?”

“Yeah. Four weeks, three days, and, um, twelve and a half hours.”

“You first.”

“You first.”

“I’m still thinking.”

“You’re just trying to fall asleep on me, here.”

“Inevitably.”

Irrelevantly Ray says, “I love how you talk.”

“The feeling is decidedly mutual.”

“So I would do all those things I already said, including the Sears Tower, and I would tell my mom and dad that you and me got a thing, which they would already know because we’d be arrested for public indecency - “

“Assuming, of course, that the rule of law hasn’t already broken down - “

“Whatever. And I’d fuck you senseless at the Art Institute under the Dutch masters or the Monets, or let you fuck me, if I could talk you into it - “

“You could.”

“Cool. And I’d tell Stella thanks, and dance with her one more time, and after Welsh bailed us out and finished chewing our asses for getting arrested I’d fuck you on my desk at the 27th \- “

“And we’d get arrested again.”

“And no one would even be there to see it except that stupid guy with the broom and Welsh, who’d have the sense to be somewhere else. And then I’d, uh, I’d tell my dad I liked being a cop, I love the GTO, and I love you, and-”

Another indrawn breath from the man beneath him and Ray freezes. “Not that I love you now, just that if the world was gonna end -”

“Ray.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re a very bad liar.”

“Well, yeah, okay, but I promise it doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes a hell of a lot, Ray.” He can’t see Fraser’s face, but the voice is grave and serious. Oh, shit. “Although I’m not entirely sure I like being lumped in with the GTO.”

“Oh. Um. Well, hey, I got lumped in with Diefenbaker in the one day scenario.” He relaxes minutely; after all, this is Fraser and Ray has always been able to tell him... almost everything.

“All teasing aside, Ray, I can’t - I’m not sure -”

“I said it’s okay, Fraser. Let me finish. Then we’ll max my credit cards and fly to New Zealand because I’ve never been there and neither have you, and I’ll fuck you senseless on a volcano.”

“I have to admit the overarching theme lends a certain piquancy to the projected events.” The teasing note is back in Fraser’s voice and Ray relaxes further. He was right to trust Fraser. He always is. Always does. Problem is the other way around, anyhow. Always has been.

“And they’ve got a quarantine so we’ll fly back to Chicago, get Dief, and head north. How about you?”

The man beneath him is still for a long moment, not even breathing. Then he says, lightly, “I’m still considering the implications of your scenario.”

Okay, well, he said it, no point in pretending it’s not bugging Fraser, no point in pretending it didn’t come out. “I’m sorry, Fraser, I already said -”

“Does it bother you that I didn’t say it?”

“No! I didn’t expect -”

“Ray.”

“ - to say it myself, let alone -”

“Ray.”

“ - hear you say it or make you say it -”

“Ray.”

“ - because it just - it just popped out. I’m -”

“Ray! If you say you’re sorry again my ego will be irretrievably crushed.”

“...so, um, still waiting to hear yours. Month to live. Whole world’s in the same boat.”

“Hmmm. All of the above. Except I would tell your parents that I am proud to be your friend and partner, in every sense; and I would probably actually be able to locate Ray Vecchio and possibly get a chance to voice my frustrations; and I would find Gerrard and kill him; and after we went to Canada I would find Eric and thank him. It’s hard to believe I’ve never done so.”

“Killing Gerrard would be kind of redundant, Frase.”

“With a month to live, Ray, I think I could succumb to both redundancy and vengeance. In fact, I think I would take great pleasure in telling your ex-wife exactly how foolish and cruel I think she is and has been.”

“Jesus, Fraser!” He can feel the blush. He knows Fraser can too.

“But, like you, I would thank her in the end since I would never have had a chance with you otherwise.”

“Jesus, um, Jesus.”

“And there were men and women who saved my life... a man who saved my life in prison, once - whom I would find and thank.” His voice drops. In a whisper he says, “And a woman who nearly destroyed my life... whom I would find and...”

“If you say thank I’m gonna sock you.”

“I... think I would.”

“Fuck that, Fraser.”

A deep sigh, and he lifts his head to see Fraser closing his eyes, his jaw taut.

“More... vengeance?” Ray whispers.

Fraser opens one eye, then the other, honestly amazed. “No.”

“Against yourself?”

He watches, almost frightened, as the Mountie blanches.

“‘Cause why?”

Silence.

“Oh, come on, Fraser. Escaped criminal, set you up, shot Dief up, set Vecchio up, for God’s sake. Huge nutcase.”

The voice, when it comes, is steadier than he expected. “All that is true. And I was immensely foolish. And that is why she deserves gratitude. She taught me about love, and honour, and betrayal, Ray, in a way that I never imagined, in a lesson I can never forget.”

“Love, Fraser?” Suddenly Ray is angry. He didn’t expect love, would never have promised love as a means to an end, won't demand reciprocity where none is offered; but the Mountie doesn’t understand love. “You wanna know about love? Love is... love is someone believing in you when you don’t believe in yourself, knowing what you can do and can’t do, whether it’s in a boxing ring or in an alley with a big time crook. Love is some freak getting a goddamn eagle feather for a guy he just met. Love is... love is coming back for that stupid guy who didn’t have the sense not to get caught on board a sinking boat - ship - coming back about forty seven times, Fraser, coming back to face death with that same stupid guy. Love is a guy telling me to count the fucking seams on a fucking baseball. Love is a guy who puts his heart into everything he does, even if it’s loving some fucked-up bitch who doesn’t deserve it.”

“Neither... neither do I.”

“Bullfuckingshit.”

“Ray, please. You don’t understand. I was... I was leaving with her.”

“Well, no _duh_ , Fraser. You loved her. Of course you were. Just like you came back for me on the Henry Anderson.”

“Allen.”

“What _ever_ , Fraser.”

“Are you trying to tell me that I love you?”

“Hey. You got your fantasy life, I got mine. I look at actions, partner, friend, buddy, not words. No question that you love me. More than I love you. Just never say it. Me or you. Didn’t mean to. So, you know, just forget about it. But I won’t.”

“Well, you’ve certainly ensured that I won’t either.”

“So we find her - _we_ find her - we tell her she’s a fucked up bitch who was lucky enough to be loved by Benton Fraser - and then what?”

Ray isn’t sure, because he hasn’t dared to look at Fraser, but he’s willing to bet Fraser is fighting back tears - of pain or rage, he’s not sure, and doesn’t really want to find out.

“And then...”

“And then we walk away? Plug her right between the eyes? Fuck her senseless?”

That garners a small choke. “B - both of us?”

“Well, hell, Fraser, if you’re up for it. It’s the end of the world, after all.”

“Oddly I have not the slightest desire -”

“Well, cool, so we’ll just spit in her face and walk away. Then what?”

“Then... what? Canada.”

“You got your own issues with themes there, Fraser.”

“I’d like to blow up the CN Tower, Ray.”

“Oooh, there we go, subliminal Victoria rage. I’m all over that. With her in it.”

“No -”

“You got your fantasy, I got mine. While we’re at it can we go to Ottawa and blow up the mother ship?”

“I’d imagine certain elements of the population would beat us to that by more than a few weeks.” His voice is steadier now, calmer too.

“Well, ditto for the CN Tower, there, but hey.”

A long silence.

“Fraser.”

A sigh.

“Yes, Ray.”

“Can I fuck you senseless in the CN Tower before we blow it up?”

“Wrapped in the Canadian flag?’

“I like the way you think.”

“That was a joke.”

“Oh, darn.”

oOo


End file.
